The Reluctant Courtesan
by lilithblood
Summary: "If I can't have you, no one else will." Said the man who annihilated her loved ones. Was it merely love or his degenerated obsession? Fate was a fickle tutor, weaving a tale of love, loss and betrayal where love became an obsession and protector became a predator. WARNING: (Very Dark).
1. Prologue

**Hello Everyone, Thanks to LaLa Loopsie 11, she had Beta'ed my chapter!**

**WARNING: This is going to be dark. It's just the starting but things will get worse before getting better. So most of you out there who are easily offended please you have been warned.****  
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**Now to all my lovelies, I hope you enjoy it!  
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Prologue

"Please don't do this." She cried out, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. So this was it. She was reduced to tears in-front of this man, reduced to begging like a low-life.

"Don't...hurt him...I beg of you...I am the one who tricked him...into...doing my bidding." She faltered a number of times trying to complete her request. What could she say to sugar coat her actions, what could she possibly do to trigger this man's love for her again?

Nothing was working anymore. She had used all her trump cards. Her shoulders sagged, and she couldn't help but grimace as she looked back at today's unfortunate events. Earlier in the morning, she thought she had gotten rid of Christian Grey and his obsession with her, not to mention the questionable life she'd been forced to lead. She had successfully escaped with the man she genuinely cared about. But now, here she was, back again at the mercy of The ruthless Mr. Grey.

He didn't even bat an eyelash at her pleading. Looking down at her with lifeless mistrusting eyes, his expression similar to that of someone bereft of life. The sadistic vengeful part inside her soul rejoiced sensing his dejection and distress. He himself never thought twice before destroying someone's life; he deserved to feel pain.

Now, her Life was at an impasse, a dead-end, with no way out. She had started her journey towards freedom with such hope, only to be pushed back brutally to the starting line or maybe even beyond it.

All she wanted was free rein of her life - was that so wrong? She struggled with her over whelming emotions and felt the initial raising of her panic, which caused a battle to rage inside her soul. A battle which made her question herself, pushing her mind to the brink of absolute insanity.

One question kept ringing in her ears like a final bell of doom: was someone else going to pay the penance for her sins? In truth, the sins that were not even hers to begin with - yet she knew beyond doubt that Mr. Grey would make that true-hearted man suffer, possibly make him pay with his life. _NO!_ Why? Why him?

Was it so selfish of her to crave freedom? Freedom that everyone deserved and others took for granted. She had always believed that she was deserving of freedom. Maybe it was greedy of her to think like that. She shouldn't have indulged herself in her pitiful fantasies. Fantasies that could not have possibly come to fruition without someone paying with their life - no it was not worth it.

If she knew her actions could possibly cost the one she cared for his life, she would have relented, not given into him. She would have put an immediate stop to that brewing disaster when she had the chance. Now, not so much - impasse.

Now she was scared for his life, which she acknowledged was arguably more valuable than hers. Why him? Why not her? Why not just annihilate her and let him be? She wanted Mr. Grey to be done with this nonsense once and for all, even if getting done meant taking her life. God knew that in his books taking care of the nonsense would mean eradicating the cause; she was the cause.

Why did he always have to torment some poor unsuspecting soul? Those poor one's always seemed to end up being her loved ones.

All he wanted was to help her and offer her his companionship, love her unconditionally and save her from the clutches of this cold and evil man. Did she unwittingly use him because of her ignorance? But then, he too knew all along what he was getting himself into.

She had never been one to use someone that way. Selfishness was not in her nature. She was a harmless being. Always disarmed. At-least prior to this day, she had always thought that.

She would never hurt a fly, always secured good grades, was accustomed to being cherished by her father. Her Dad used to be proud of her, and dancing - dancing was her passion once upon a time, now it reminded her too much of leering hooded eyes and degenerated men. She used to be good and happy but now she felt anything but happiness.

Then why? why her?

In a fleeting moment of narcissistic selfishness, her mind whispered, '_why not somebody else?_'.

'_Selfish_', her sub-conscious spat back at her.

She wanted to rip Mr. Grey apart, thinking that someone close to her would meet his death at the whim of this cold and calculating man.

Was this really nothing but a game to him? To her and other people, it was a matter of life and death - literally.

Their lives were hanging by a thread, her fate still unconfirmed. Knowing this cold man as well as she did, she knew that death might even be the easy way out at this point as far as he was concerned.

She wondered if he would once again rob her of her loved ones; there weren't many left to begin with - all because of him.

There he was: Mr. Grey. Standing tall and unreachable, a God among mortals. An Adonis between commoners.

Looking at her with bloodshot hate-filled eyes, his whole demeanor exhibited animosity and hostility, along with a loathsome persona.

Her eyes welled up. Just looking at him reminded her of the reason she ended up here in the first place.

She felt numb, her mind having flashes of what she had lost and what was expected of her now, in order for them to survive. Not that she cared about herself anymore; no, not anymore. She already knew that when she was being dragged back to this hell: she was doomed.

That selfless man was probably getting tortured somewhere in the dungeons located in this very mansion.

She wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Grey had dank dungeons somewhere in this fucked-up estate, equipped with all manner of torture devices just to wrest the truth out of anyone unlucky enough to get tangled in his web. He never needed a reason; he answered to no one, period.

Just like he was doing with her.

What to do? How to make this work? Plead - Yes, that was it - plead. She would have to plead for his life now.

She would offer him whatever she could, anything, anything at all. Just no more deaths please, not any more. Surely she was not worth the fight or the bloodshed?

She could not bear the burden of another life at stake because of her foolishness, or even worse, her selfishness.

"Please." She croaked out, staring at the monster who glared at her with hate-filled eyes. She could see that he was unmoved hence she tried to control her panic along with her erratic breathing, knowing full well she was pleading for a lost cause but giving up now meant getting enveloped in unknown darkness.

"Please grant some mercy!" She sobbed. He simply looked at her, never replying, never uttering a word.

His expression were unfathomable and impassive, though if she looked carefully, perhaps she could detect a hint of cruel amusement shining through those hard-set eyes.

"Please don't kill him!" She had to make this work; she had to make him consider her plea. Anything! Lord please anything was worth it, just not another dead body.

His expression turned hard as steel upon hearing her plead for another man's life. An unforgivable crime, the most deplorable act in his opinion: was for her to care about some other man. His jealous and territorial behavior knew no bounds.

His eyelids turned into slits, any hint of amusement now vanished into thin air, making her question whether she had imagined it in the first place.

Mr. Grey was back to business now, as he left a formidable silence hanging between them. This luxuriously beautiful yet unwelcome place was his cold sanctuary, just like him, mirroring his personality.

Her teary eyes were fixed upon his face, beseeching and begging him to reconsider. He was indifferent and cruel, as always. The only significant difference was that this coldness was never directed towards her before.

"Try again." He positively glowered. But how could she forget his cruelty? This was the man who was known for his hunger for bloodshed. Nothing satisfied him more than some unsuspecting innocent person's blood curdling screams.

She knew that; after all, she herself was a victim of his barbarism.

"Why are you doing this Chris–" she started trying to placate him although she could care less about Mr. Grey himself.

"_NO!_" He roared. "You are no longer granted the permission to address me so informally. _That's Mr. Grey to you now_!" Her eyes went wide with panic and fear. She did not care which name she was supposed to use; all she wanted was to save someone's life. What to do now? She was in hysterics.

"W-why are you doing this M-Mr. Grey?" She stammered, trying to control her erratic heartbeat. For a fleeting moment, she worried for her fate, seeing his apathetic face and wrathful eyes. Oh yes, she was definitely worried for her inevitable fate now.

"Doing what?" He was unaffected, poker-faced.

"W-why did you take him? Please - Please don't kill him! It wasn't his fault; it was mine." She broke into a sob, realizing how pathetic she sounded even to her own ears. She was _doomed_.

"Now, why would I let him off the hook?" His tone was condescending. While he was the same, not a hair out-of-place, she was dissolved into a broken mess.

"M-my fault..." She couldn't even complete her sentence. Her words were caught in her throat. She tentatively approached him. Both of them: Face to chest.

He granted her only an arrogant glance; he knew he owned the game now. She looked up at him and sobbed, not knowing what to say to him. Her hands rose on their own accord and bound themselves together as if praying for forgiveness. The only thing that belied his indifferent stance was his perfectly arched raised brow. His aristocratic strikingly handsome face held a sardonic expression, a light tug of the corner of his lip indicated amusement.

She grasped his shirt with her dainty fingers and held on like her life depended on it, which it did, and slid down his large masculine body in an act of submission all the while sobbing and begging. "Please do whatever you want to do with me. He is an innocent - he didn't do anything. Please I beg of you!" A crying mess, begging like a lowlife, that's all she was reduced to.

"You mean an innocent man who betrayed me?" He captured the long brown mane on the back of her head in his fist and tugged her silky strands harshly.

"Do you mean the one you seduced to get your wicked way? The one who was almost my most loyal and trusted man and practically a family?" He spat his words at her with hatred, his nostrils fuming, while her long hair was still in his fist.

She couldn't reply; how could she? She had answers. Oh, she had many answers, but none that would help her case at this point.

What was she to say to him? She wanted him to do whatever he wanted with her, but just to get it over with already.

She would agree to be his punching bag, not saying a word. She would let him take out his anger and frustration on her.

Of course, he had surmised she had betrayed him, cheated on him in the worst way imaginable. But, he didn't know the whole story. Right now, all she wanted was freedom and mercy for one selfless man.

"Tell me you fucking whore, you seduced him, didn't you? Just like you seduced me! Admit it." He pulled her to her feet by her soft hair. She hissed and rose her hands to pry her hair out of his hard grip but didn't answer him, fearing the wrath she would receive if she gave him the naked truth.

"And to think I was ready to give you a new life, a life with me. I bought you from a brothel, damn it! A fucking pleasure house! I was ready to fight for you, but now I see it was all a ploy. You seduced me into doing your bidding, didn't you? _FUCKING ANSWER ME_!" He was the epitome of the ultimate predator right now, ready to tear her apart any second. His anger flashed in his eyes like a blazing inferno of fire, trying to turn her into ash.

He shook her head roughly by her locks willing her to respond, but she didn't dare to answer.

"I'm sure you gave yourself to _HIM_, you slut! You didn't even let _ME_ touch you. I honored your request of not touching you without your _permission_, but you let that bastard _taint_ you, didn't you?" She closed her eyes roughly to avoid the crazed look in his eyes. He said he had honored her…that had to be the joke of the century!

She couldn't help but expose him to reality. "Mr. Grey, you are one to talk...Remember you once tried to...force yourself on me." Looking into his eyes, she got her point across clearly. She couldn't resist. Why was he reacting like a victim?

He froze. "It was just a misconception on my part. Of course I didn't know you were a fucking virgin. A virgin was a fairly uncommon anomaly within the household in which you used to reside, is it not?" His tone gave way to sarcasm. "Not anymore though. What did you offer him? Tell me, your body? Right?"

He granted her with a deviously lascivious look, but it was also filled with pain, all the while scrutinizing her flawless beautiful face and supple body. He gave a calculative once over to the formidable weapon she had used against him: her body. In his opinion: the visage that was capable of leading any red-blooded male astray - the perfect honey trap; he was not to fault. She felt utterly naked under his gaze. "Not that I can blame him. After all, I myself fell victim to your feminine wiles." How could he blame that bastard when he himself knew that he would take her back in a flash if given the slightest of the chance.

Her hair was still secure in his fist. "You are no longer pure anymore, are you, you little slut? You must've offered him your body, It was supposed to be _ME_!" He raged. One of them was going to die tonight. If the bastard had touched her indecently he will make sure to throw him to his carnivorous wolves, alive and conscious.

"I didn't give myself to anyone and I was never _YOURS_ to begin with!" She finally yielded and cried out at the pain radiating from her scalp.

"You are lying about not giving yourself to anyone!" He cornered her against the wall, hair in his hand, her smooth jaw now prisoner of his ruthless and calloused fingers. "But that doesn't matter now, does it? _You are still a little whore deep down_!" He whispered in her ear menacingly.

"Please, anything! I am ready to sell my soul to the devil, but please - he is an innocent. Don't kill him! I-I have heard what you do to those who betray you - but he didn't do anything. I forced him! Please...?"

He looked at her with a sardonic smile. His face expressed his devious thoughts and efforts of trying his best to ignore the pain rising from his chest. "Do you think I need your permission to do anything with you? You lost that privilege when you decided to betray me and ran away with another man like a strumpet that you were. Tell me, was I not enough for you? Was one man not enough to sate your desire? _You were MINE_!"

"I never promised that I was yours." She corrected his delusions. He gave a half-hearted bitter laugh at her calloused words.

"So what you are trying to tell me is that you belong to him?" He looked at her with a murderous intent. "See, That is why I cannot let him live." He then answered almost nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

"NO! NO Please, is there nothing I can do? I'll do anything." She was desperate; She would stand her ground even if it killed her.

"Anything?" He gave her a cynical look.

She tried to nod her head but resistance due to his fist made it difficult. He understood though. He freed her hair and straightened himself.

"Your wish could be granted, and we will negotiate. I won't kill him - for now. Do as I say, or else. I am sure we understand each other perfectly." He pierced her with a menacing gaze.

"Now, follow this corridor straight and climb the stairs on the right side. You will find 4 rooms. The one on the left end was to be yours before you decided that betraying me was healthy. Get yourself situated."

He finished, knowing full well that he had won. The sardonic glint in his eyes made her take a step back in an act of self-preservation.

"Okay." Her full - red from the abuse of her teeth - lips trembled, she bit her lower lip again trying to swallow an impotent sob and he noticed, rather hungrily.

She knew for a fact that he just wanted to own her - maybe use her body, which was why he was keeping her now, _repulsive obsessive bastard_. He had never had her because she had always somehow stopped him. She thought repellently.

She wanted to laugh out loud like a lunatic. She would ensure that he would encounter nothing but an empty shell when he came near her or wanted to touch her.

She turned around to go see and find her eternal prison.

"Anastasia..." He rasped. She stopped in response to hearing her name, her knees going weak because of the day's events.

She didn't turn around though, instead keeping her back to his front, lest he hurt her anymore.

She only crooked her neck as a sign of acknowledgement. "Why did you do it, Anastasia?" She heard his pained whisper, almost like a plea.

She snapped her eyes shut sharply and took a deep trembling painful breath before enlightening him. "You were the reason I was in that hell hole in the first place. YOU ordered your men to kill my Father". She heard a sharp intake of breath.

"And Mr. Grey...? _Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned!_"


	2. The Annihilation

**Hello all of you wonderful people. It's been a while. I am so sorry!**

**Thanks to LaLa Loopsie 11 for beta'ing my chapters!**

**Enjoy!**

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I hurriedly turned on the shower and lathered up my hair, as I was already running late to my dance lessons. Damn! Percy was going to be pissed. He did not tolerate tardiness, even though he considered me a total sweetheart. It was just my luck that he was gay, so of course, I never received any leniency for being a female! Ugh, and I could have used it right about now, too! I just about rubbed my body raw in my haste to use a white loofah.

I pondered if I should call up my dad or not before leaving. Although he told me he would be home later today than usual, I still worried about him immensely. I can't help it; lately he seemed to be more and more distant, his face contoured with worry lines, which made him look older than he actually was. He was the only close family member left in my life, except for my mother of course. His dangerous lifestyle brought me nothing but uncertainty: about our safety, our lives, and our future. He was an FBI officer.

Mom and Dad divorced three years back when I was fourteen. I was devastated but decided to live with my dad. I didn't approve of their divorce but it's not like I could have stopped it. I couldn't just leave my life behind in Portland and follow my mother around like a lost puppy knowing full well that she craved freedom and had left my dad in order to gain that freedom. I never did know what went wrong between them; they used to be so much in love but our good fortune took a plunge, and my mother suddenly changed her priorities and left me and dad to pick up the pieces.

As a toddler I started out with swimming, then sensing my interest I joined different dance clubs at the age of five. I switched from ballet to rumba to salsa to belly dance and the cycle went on. I still remember performing physical activities giving me a feeling of a free spirit, and I used to get lost in the rhythmic movements. Growing up, my interest developed and evolved as time passed.

Belly dance was something that I didn't enjoy at the young age - because it needed less jumping and more control - but as I grew up I warmed up to the idea of it. At the age of ten I used to watch elderly females performing on the beat of a drum hence my fascination took place. I threw a fit and insisted that I wanted to switch my dancing lessons without knowing if I'm capable of doing it or not. My mother tried her best to make me stick with others _less __scandalous_ ones, but I was as stubborn as a mule. So she resigned herself to my will.

Dad was dumbfounded. He didn't know what the hype was all about, and to my amusement, he didn't seem to be able to tell the difference between ballet, rumba, salsa or belly dance.

All the elderly figures in my life didn't like my interest in belly dance, hell any type of dance. I didn't understand at that time - I still don't.

My parents always said that I had an old soul in a young body. I was not the thin type so I tried my best to perform it less implicatively.

I would have turned out chubby if it wasn't for my relentless physical exercises and sports.

Now at the age of seventeen, I was curvy with breasts and hips and a fairly voluptuous body. I had always looked older than my friends. I was '_blessed_' with curves at only 5'4", making me envy my slender, tall friends. I would love to have been a size two, but you can't get everything you want, right?

On the other hand, they always said they wanted to have a body like mine; surely they were lying. They were probably off somewhere having a good laugh at my expense; or maybe it was just me and my overly paranoid mind.

I got out of the shower and, after patting my body dry, wrapped the towel around my hair. I went with a simple cropped T-shirt, which bared my midriff a little, and simple yoga pants. I took off my towel and shook my hair, brushed it, and left it to dry naturally. My eyes wandered in my room in search of my camel colored coat. I wore it over my casual attire, slipped on my shoes, collected my phone, bag and keys and left my room in a hurry.

After locking the main door, I walked outside towards my red, weathered Beetle. The blazing blue sky poured down torrents of light. Yes it was a fine day.

Mrs. Robin was out again, searching for the ever-wayward Mimi, her cat. Joanne Robin was a lovely old widow with a youthful attitude and a heart of gold. Her son was in the US army; I heard he left the country during the war in Iraq. No one that she knew of had heard from him since the day he called her for the last time. Refusing to believe he died, she still had her hopes up that Antonio was going to return to her someday. Dad says she hasn't been the same ever since. I had always felt the pain reflecting from her eyes, but her faith led her to believe he would return, even though her common sense couldn't quite agree.

I waved my hand at the old lady after rolling down my window. "Hello Joanne. You all right? How's your arthritis treating you?"

"Anastasia! How are you faring child? The arthritis has been brutal as always. These old bones are ready to give up I guess." She gave me her sweet smile.

"Don't say things like that! By the way, I am good. Just leaving for my dance lessons. I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm already really late. How about I drop by later to try your delicious baking again?" I gave her my cheeky grin. She eyed me in mock skepticism.

"Don't worry when I come by I'll do the dishes!" I add reassuring her. God I loved her baked goods. "Getting late Joanne, gotta go!"

"Drive safely!" She shouted as I drove away in haste. Damn Percy is gonna be so pissed. I am late again!

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"Anastasia!" I heard Percy's voice as soon as I entered the building.

Crap! He only called me Anastasia when I was in deep shit. "I know, I know. I am late again. I am sooo sorry!" I was beyond embarrassed, but I managed to give Percy my famous puppy dog eyes while jutting out my bottom lip.

"Oh no, not again. Stop your poutin'. That ain't gonna get you out of trouble this time." I jutted out my bottom lip even more and kept looking at him.

"I am sorry," I repeated.

He looked at me, trying to be all stern and grim, but I could detect the hint of a twitch on his lips. "That's it! Stop it. No more actin' cute. Get in position, Ana, and if you're late again, you get to mop the floor after the lesson." A relieved sigh escaped my lips. Heh! My famous puppy-dog look had never failed to get me out of trouble. Ever. It worked on my teachers, instructor, my mom, and my dad. Especially my Dad!

"What are y'all looking at? Start practicin'. NOW!" Geez, someone seemed to be in a bad mood today. Percy was a sweetheart...well at-least when he wanted to be. He was a true blue Southerner straight from Louisiana, and he was African-American and gay. His drawl was swoon-worthy and would have made girls drool if it hadn't been for the fact that he had no interest in girls whatsoever.

I took off my coat in a hurry and got into position with the other girls, my yoga pants and cropped T not hindering my movements whatsoever. "So everyone, today we will start with slow Opulent Motions first and then slowly work it into Darbuka."

Percy gave us five minutes to warm up. The Opulent Motion dancing and Darbuka solo were the types of belly-dance that I favored and chose to learn.

After giving us a final warning, Percy started the music. We started our dance slowly, just going with the flow and moving our body in sensual motions. Using different poses as accents, we worked our arms, moving rhythmically with the music, showing our body in a picture perfect posture - simple but engaging.

We all started with our own dancing styles on the same flowing tune. We kept that up, changing our styles, while Percy corrected our postures and gave more instructions. The flowy music started morphing into more pronounced rhythms and we moved our bodies along with the beat, making it seem like the music was flowing at the command of our bodies.

After two hours of relentless, slave-driving practice Percy finally gave us some slack. "Okay girls…I gotta say, you guys have turned out to be pretty good. Samantha and Felony, you need to work on your shimmies. Ammy, next time try to make yourself more relaxed, less stiff. And YOU, Anastasia, don't be late again. We were all waiting for you today." I apologized again for today's delay and collected my stuff. I put on my coat and left the studio walking towards my car at a leisurely pace.

I got into my car and headed in the direction of my house, wondering if Dad would be home when I got back and thinking about how I would need to make dinner and finish my homework. Dad has been working relentlessly these past few days.  
My "Uncle" Charles - one of Dad's best friends and colleagues - was murdered two months back, while working on getting evidence against someone powerful. After his death, my dad was the one entrusted with the task. I was worried about him, and rightfully so. After the death of Uncle Charles, I didn't want dad to take on this case but he was bitter with anger and wanted to avenge his friend's death.

Uncle Charles's family was devastated by his tragically brutal death, and they moved to the other side of the country. They had no wish to sacrifice any more of their family, and they hoped to get away from the painful memories.

I had overheard dad the previous week talking to another colleague about getting evidence against the 'Greys' - whoever they were - and the Greys' progeny, who seemed to be the worst of them all and needed to be taken down.

I couldn't understand all of the technicalities, but the word 'Grey' was etched into my mind like a brand of iron. I understood that one thing well enough. The Greys' were the assailants who killed Uncle Charles, and they were responsible for my inability to sleep at night.

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When I pulled up outside my home, I parked my car in the front garage as usual. After collecting my keys I took a look at my place. Something was amiss, I instantly became alert. My body erupted in goosebumps leaving a trail of fear and uncertainty in its wake. I could feel it in my gut, something was terribly wrong.

The door was not locked. I remembered I locked it before leaving for the dance lessons and dad never left the door unlocked, he was too paranoid not to. Something was not right, I could feel it. My body gave a violent shake and sweat beaded on my forehead. As I stepped out of my vehicle, a gun-shot rang out in the air, and I instantly bolted towards the door in panic. My hands were shaking whilst my mind was praying, _Oh no, please Lord, don't let it be what I think it is! What I had always dreaded._

I opened the entrance door and stepped inside my home. The atmosphere seemed gloomy and the air smelled of death and fatality. My eyes wandered around searching for the obvious threat. Something white caught my eye and I swallowed my shriek. I watched in shock as Mimi ran past me, leaving the house and going God knows where.

What was Joanne's cat Mimi doing here?

I looked around the main entrance and saw a plate of freshly baked Chocolate chip cookies on the kitchen counter - Joanne hand baked and delivered her home-made cookies. I told her I'd come by and help clean-up. She shouldn't be laboring herself out like that.

I guess Joanne was here? There was no other way to describe Mimi's presence. But the Gun-shot?

It was dark, very dark, inside the house. I could see that only the living room seemed to be illuminated, and I could hear hushed whispers. I shivered and drew in a shaky breath, willing my heart beat to slow down, and walked towards the seating area where I thought the whispering seemed to be coming from. This place had started to feel dingy – my own home! My skin crawled sensing the danger. I hid behind a wall so no one can see me and eavesdropped.

"Tommy, why the hell did you use the one without the suppressor? The whole fucking neighborhood must have heard the gun-shot." A voice that I haven't heard before called out. I heard someone struggling in the background and some muffled words. I tried to have a peak.

"Like I care. If those fuckers mess around with me, I'll blow their brains out too." Blow their brains out? I felt like the air has been sucked out of my chest at high velocity, and my knees nearly buckled under my weight, which suddenly felt ten times heavier than usual. "B-brains o-out?" I whispered to myself.

I swept my gaze around the room and a quick glance at the floor confirmed what I feared. I could see blood on the floor. Nausea crept up my body and bile rose in my throat. I muffled my screams with the help of my hand, out of a sense of survival at this point. Whose blood was it? I hadn't a clue. Blood, lots of blood. I stifled my sobs behind my clamped up mouth.

My rapidly disappearing sense of self-preservation began to kick in, and I moved forward carefully, trying to remain undetected. Whose blood was this? Out of the corner of my eye I saw a small, wrinkled hand lying lifelessly on the floor in the midst of blood. I felt paralyzed out of sheer dread and fear. My gaze traveled the path of the blood, still pooling in the shadows, and my eyes met lifeless eyes staring back at me. I clamped my hand on my mouth to stifle my terrified cries and tugged my own hair with my other hand. Only through supreme effort, I repressed a violent shudder. My breath seemed to halt and my heartbeat sky rocketed. My screams were lost in my throat.

Lifeless eyes.

Joanne's eyes. They stared back at me.

Those lifeless eyes were trying to tell me a tragic story, a secret. Mocking me. Blaming me. Laughing at me. Telling me I might be the next one.

I know I would be forever haunted by that image. It had been captured by the retina of my eyes to torture me for the rest of my life - that is if I got to survive.

The ground was tinged red from all of the blood that had been shed without any remorse. I suddenly felt the bile rising in my throat. I hunched over dry heaving, my throat closing in on myself "Wait, hey who's there?" I could hear the shouts coming closer. No no no! Don't come here.

I dragged myself backwards trying not to make a sound and opened the closet door and crammed myself inside it in a moment of clarity. I had a clear view of the room. They were five men. Five heavily armed men.

Joanne was the first victim. O my God. She should have stayed at her place. She came to deliver the cookies – which I had requested! – and was dragged into our business. I told her I would drop by her place. She should have listened to me. Poor Joanne was now reduced to nothing more than collateral damage. I'm sorry Joanne...

Dad was cramped in the clutches of two of the men, arms twisted behind his back, knees on the ground, chest pushed out unnaturally. The other man had a gun aimed at his forehead.

I felt dried tears on my face. Had I been crying?

I was afraid. I was afraid about what those people had planned for Dad. _No, Not my Daddy. _I wanted to scream this out loud.

"So Raymond Steele, is it?" One man started smugly. "We told you not to interfere, but you just had to forsake your life, didn't you?" He finished looking around the apartment non-nonchalantly. Like my Dad was not on the line for the bullet. Bastard!

"If you want to kill me, then kill me. I am not afraid. That's the only thing you bastards are good for. Killing. You killed my friend Charles, now you are gonna kill me too. But let me tell you that I am not afraid." Dad had officially lost his mind. I wanted to run outside of the closet and save my father, but I stayed where I was because Dad would want me to save my life by remaining undetected.

"Defiant as ever, huh Raymond? We could have killed you before but we didn't. You see this time you crossed the line. You don't EVER cross Mr. Grey. You should know that by now after knowing what happened to your dead pal."

"Fuck all of the Greys. The bastard Christian Grey will die the same way his father died…in a shootout, I'm sure." Dad laughed at their faces. "That's what you are all good for. The minute Carrick Grey lost his security, he was shot. That's going to be his son's fate too. And don't forget yourself. You fucking D-grade minions."

"Don't you think you should maybe care about your own fate, Mr. Steele." The bald bastard added menacingly bunching my father's hair in his hand making his head jerk back. He had obviously taken offense at Dad's words.

"Maybe I will not be the one to send Grey behind bars. But mark my words, somebody will see to it."  
'Dad, what the hell are you doing?' I screamed in my head. Grovel, beg or do something. Please don't anger them anymore than you already have.

The bald man kicked dad in the abdomen, making him hunch over. "Well you know what I think, Steele? I think you need a good beating before we kill you off."

I had to talk myself out of running to my father's rescue several times and offer myself instead of my father. What good would come out of it instead of further increasing my father's pain?!

"I think you should kill me when you have the chance. I know I sure won't hesitate the next time I see you." Dad gave his patented smirk. "I am honorable. I will die with honor. You'll never be able to say that. Ever."

"Honor, my friend, is over-rated. Any last wishes?" He asked my father in a superior tone, finally placing the muzzle of the weapon on Daddy's forehead and cocking the gun. "Yes, there is. Die and got to hell." Dad replied shooting him a hateful glare.

Last wishes? Was that the end? _NO, it can't be!_

The moment of silence arrived. That infamous dreadful peace before a storm. No shouting, no fighting reached my ears…just pin-drop silence. Everything would be lost after that silence. I halted my breath.

With that, the bald man pulled the trigger and I heard the most gut-wrenching sound in the world.

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**So everyone? Do you like it or not?**

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**Cheers!**


	3. Closet Encounter

**Hello lovely ladies. Be warned though, this is kind of gory! I want to get something off my chest. **

**This is not a hearts and flowers story. There will be gore, violence, pedophilia (when the need will arise) and rape in it. I just want to tell you because if you cannot stomach all of these things you can unfollow or not read the story at all. I don't want anybody abusing me when things get tough, and they will get tough I assure you. If it's not your cup of** **tea, it's okay, I love you all nonetheless. This is a story about Mafia/underworld. And there's nothing hearts and flowers about them! At-least not for a while!**

**My beta Lala Loopsie 11 is indisposed for the time being so please excuse the mistakes since I'm the Queen of typos.**

**Enjoy!**

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This day was devised from darkness and terror. The perfect climax for a fear-inducing horror spectacle, where you could precisely sample the bitter taste of death, feel its cold grip caressing your spine while its essence crept deep into your bones claiming your mortal vitality while rendering you prostrate.

Your shins - paralyzed by the fear of death - utterly helpless.

Your eyes - wide open - watching the destructive entity devour everything whilst awaiting your inevitable turn.

Wondering how much time you have left until it clutches onto you as-well?

The clock ticked as the horror incremented in its magnitude. The creepy bird clock's pendulum made an audacious noise rudely tackling my horror-stricken brain and jeering me to remember the experience.

06:58 was the time of my father's demise. Now, the clock struck 07:00.

At 06:58 I saw my father's face contort into a pain filled mask as his eyes rolled into the back of his head while a gun-shot adorned the expanse of his forehead.

Surely this was my imagination? Maybe a horrible dream sequence? Yes, this was a dream! Now all I had to do was wake myself up and everything will be back to normal.

In my effort to do so, I slapped my face in a daze to wake myself up from this nightmare. Nothing.

I pinched my arm to regain my consciousness. Nothing.

Next I was going to gorge my eyes out, maybe that would reduce the intensity of this grotesque nightmare?

But in order to do that I had to tear my eyes away from the eerie scene but my eyes refused the command of my brain. This nightmarish exhibit was holding me captive. Would I ever be free of it as I could feel it slowly consuming my soul.

My father and blood. Lots and lots of blood. A horrible combination, one I never wanted to contemplate in my mind.

I had always wondered how death felt like. Now I'd got the answer. It felt raw and superior. The process of the soul reaping from the body could be abrupt but one thing I'd realized is that the soul held no compassion for its shell. How could _it_ leave a body in a matter of minutes after residing in it for so long, the body that nurtured it, gave it a place to stay, was privy to all its secrets.

That's all your soul took to betray you father: A bullet, a cylindrical minuscule object that ripped apart your precious brain that held all my memories. _I refuse to believe that you're not in there anymore._

The assailants of my family - daddy and Joanne - were scattered in our living room, sweeping the area, searching for more clues. What clues? They just killed my father, the clues will be buried with his body, he trusted no one with the Greys' secrets. I found out because I was a _naughty eavesdropper_, that's what my father and mother used to call me whenever I was caught eavesdropping when I was a little child. Reminiscing my childhood memories of my father made my eyes prick with tears and they stained my blotchy face.

The assailants swept the area whilst death splattered the floor, blood seeping into the plush white carpet, creating a stark contrast with the bright color, making it all the more real. Red on white. I'll always detest red on white.

"What are we going to do with the bodies." I felt numb as I heard one of the five ask the scary bald man.

"Leave em here." The bald man was not only a killer but he also held no honor and respect for the dead.

"But bo-" The young one started again but was interrupted mid sentence.

"Let the neighborhood find them after they smell their rotten decomposition." The bald mule cackled out loud, indulging in his sick gratification of ogling the gore he made out of my two loved ones. I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth to stop myself from wailing expletives out-loud.

My brain considered a phone buzzing in the distance. The bald guy took the phone out of his pants pocket and his face paled to an ugly light green. He put it on the speaker with shaking hands. "Sir, yes sir!" His mouth quaked.

"Blake." Came a detached gravelly hoarse voice from the hand set. The voice itself gave me chills and my skin crawled with terror and unfathomable revulsion. Something about _Blake_ being shaken by the owner of the voice made me realize the formidable importance and the dread of cloud that was the possessor of that somber sound.

"Y-yes M-mr Grey" Blake's breath hitched in his throat out of raw fear. So this was the infamous Mr. Grey who had not only devoured uncle Charles but now my father and Joanne too. The killer. My insides swelled with sheer hatred.

"Is it done?" The gravely voice asked. I didn't know if a person could hate someone as much as I was hating Mr. Grey right now.

"Yes sir." Blake was reduced to a blubbering mess.

"Casualties?" He asked casualties in such a casual tone that it was made hard for me to swallow my cries.

"Two, sir." He gave a stammering reply.

"Undetected?" The scary Mr. Grey asked again.

"Yes sir." Blake gulped.

"Have you swept the area after the kill?" The voice asked in a sharp tone which made the men in the room shiver.

"N-no Sir." Blake's eyes darted back and forth to his men and he swallowed his quiver as he replied. The hand set remained silent. No answer. Blake eyes grew into saucers and sweat beaded his forehead.

"I-I...I will s-sir, right away." He stammered again, trying to placate scary Mr. Grey.

"Kill anyone with the slightest of doubt!" Came his voice lacking any humility for the living beings.

"As you command, sir." Bald man stood up straight for the effect and replied in servitude.

"Any immediate family?" Came a deadpanned question again. Family? Oh no, Mom! And...me?

"We heard he had a daughter that lived with him and an Ex-wife." Blake answered his inquiries like a lap dog.

"Is she there?" My hands started shaking when that question came out from the scary Mr. Grey via the hand set and floated into my ears. I felt fear like nothing before. My eyes zeroed in on my father's stilled open ones and I tried to relay to him telepathically. _Wait for me daddy, I'll be there with you soon. _I tried to smile back at my father between my tears, terrified yet happy that he won't be left alone. But the looming cloud of death over my head also made my eyes wet with fear and terror. I'm only seventeen. No seventeen year old should have to go through this nightmare.

"No, sir." I released my relieved breath with great difficulty and whimpered lightly.

"Clean the place. Leave no trace behind. If she comes before the clean-up; kill her." That's the longest sentence I've heard scary Mr. Grey say and that was for dooming me to death. I remember dad's words. _The __Bastard Christian Grey - _Indeed.

"Yes sir." The bald man gave his final answer and all he was lacking in his stance was a salute. The phone beeped and the call disconnected leaving me to my Fate. I should just give up and let them easily find me. Fate had shown me my options today and they were very limited. I didn't want to mess with fate. Bad things happen when you mess with fate. Maybe it was time for my demise. All I wanted now is for them to leave my mom alone.

"Connor we are off disposing of these bodies. Sweep the area. If you see anyone conducting suspicious activity, then shoot 'em and dispose." The bald Blake said to the guy with a long scar on his face. I had to wonder _will I get caught? will they kill me? If not, where will I go then now that dad was not here to protect me?_

The next ten minutes passed in them wrapping up the bodies in a yellow plastic bag and then towing it towards their vehicles with a Jovial stealth. All that time I was trying hard to close my eyes and control my painful hiccups. I curled myself inside the closet and started moving my body back and forth while reciting '_Ringa Ringa Roses, A Pocket Full Of_ _Posies'_. I was sure I was losing my damned mind. This used to calm me when I was a child, it might rose-up to my aid again. It's a foolish hunch, I was trying to get out of my body and leave this nightmare once and for all.

After they rolled the white - now red - rug off the floor, they left the premises leaving _Connor _behind.

The guy with the scar started searching around the house. I tried to will myself to become a midget by curling myself into a ball.

He opened closets after closets and swept everything around him, throwing stuff around, opening boxes, searching the rooms. I heard a creek of the closet in which I was hiding in and whimpered out of fear and self-preservation. My heart rate hay-wired and I broke into a cold sweat.

The door of my closet opened eerily. I raised my tangled mess of a head and tear-stricken face and saw no one. It must have been the air. I leaned forward stealthily with a thudding heart and raised my shaking arm in order to close the door in a covert manner.

I saw a shadow from my peripheral before I heard its footsteps. I hastily tried to make myself invisible by positioning cleaning bottles in front of me and dumping rags on my head as a form of a barrier but all was lost when my ears heard the sing-songed death sentence. "_I see you."_

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**Let me know what you think about this. Reviews are appreciated. **

**Have a nice weekend. Bye!**


	4. The Scene

**Hello everyone, it's LilithBlood at your service. Hope you're all blooming.**

**Warning: There's a rape of a minor (secondary) character at the end of this chapter. Please be warned, I don't want to be the cause of any triggers. I respect everyone and I detest rape, this is truly fictitious and not based on anybody's life and is not intended to be disrespectful. If you cannot read it then just skip the last part.**

**Thank-you: A big shout-out to "BannerAndMash", That Irish beauty helped me proofread my chapter. Thanks Maria, you're awesome!**

**Legal issues: FSOG belongs to Mrs. James.**

**Enjoy!**

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_"I see you."_

The acidic contents of my stomach up-heaved as I heard the hard-bitten death sentence, but I swallowed down the acrid taste with great difficulty. My breath left my lungs in an agonizing whoosh rendering my body bereft of life force and circles started swirling in-front of my eyes. Maybe, that's what happened to every being when on the verge of departure. When the call of the Angel of Death becomes too persistent, with wings spread wide open in all of its glory, welcoming the damned one to the realm of the darkness.

Death is a certainty, not a possibility so I'd always wondered how I'd die, not the act but the place and the circumstances. Not even in my most wildest of thoughts had this scenario of my last moments ever crossed my mind. But now, after seeing the demise of my father I'm convinced that a quick death might even be the easy way out for me at this point. My sub-conscious sneered at me _'like you had a choice damned one.'_

I was not ready to die. I suppressed the sob that threatened to escape my painfully chapped mouth. I refused to give scary guy the satisfaction of seeing me cry. _I wanted to live. Maybe come out as a well-known belly dancer someday. Find true love. Have children. Try and avenge my daddy, then die old and gray. What about my dreams? What about my daddy?_ My eyes welled up.

The scary guy cocked his head to the side and looked at me with mock softness. The eerie looking deep grotesque old scar on his face gave off an illusion of a crescent moon, starting from the hair-line on his forehead and ending down on the side of his neck.

"Now who's been playing The Peeping Tom. Come here sweet child, come to me." He gestured towards me with his hands and softly opened the closet door. I whimpered out of fear and looked down at my feet trying to will them to attain some super powers and fly away, taking me as far away as possible from scary guy and this nightmare.

"Peeking, weren't you?" He grabbed my chin in his rough, cold hand almost too tenderly and stroked my hair with his other hand.

A whine left my throat which constricted my lungs resulting in a hiccup coming out of my already opened mouth. My watery eyes met his unyielding ones. His tender touch belied his hard face. He eyed my tangled hair and runny nose while stroking my cheek with his bloodied thumb.

"Shame! What a cute little pretty face. I'm almost sad that I'd have to kill you sweetness." He crouched down in-front of me on his haunches and grabbed my face with both of his hands with forced tenderness making my lips protrude out resulting in a pout.

"How very adorable." He stroked my protruding lower lip with his thumb and slowly stood up forcing me to follow his lead.

I resisted the urge to gag under his fake gentility and turned my face sideways trying to pry it away from his hands but to no avail. He clicked his tongue as he shook his head "Uh uh uh. How long have you been hiding here?" I ignored his question and looked at his face trying to find an ounce of mercy in his cold dark heart by searching his eyes. I saw nothing but my demise written in there. My sobs unknowingly to me started wracking my body and I felt something wetting my cheeks, must be tears. He searched my face inquisitively. What's he finding so amusing about my situation? I swallowed a sob in my throat which resulted in pain-filled hiccups.

He granted me with an evil sadistic smirk and I shrank back. "P-please." I begged scared out of my wits.

"Please what?" He cocked his head to the side.

"D-don't, P-please. P-please don't kill me." My voice shook. The looming fear of death was indeed nothing like I'd ever felt before.

"How old are you sweetness?" He ignored me begging for my life and countered back with his own queries.

"S-seventeen and a h-half." I hiccuped.

"And what's your name." He again granted me with a sweet smile. The smile that I was starting to dread.

"Ana." I whispered sniffing.

"Full name." He raised his eyebrows in mild anticipation.

"Anastasia Rose Steele." I croaked out from my weathered out throat.

"Steele..." He whispered in a contemplative manner. I nodded my head subserviently.

A melodic tone rang out nearby bringing him out of his thoughtful stupor. He pulled out his phone from his pants pocket and answered.

"Yes boss. Yes I've swept the house carefully." He said whilst giving me the look that warned me to keep my mouth zipped.

"No I didn't find anyone." Was he not killing me? I blinked up at him while he threw cautious glances my way. I shrank back submissively.

"Yes, Okay." He clicked his phone shut after a pause. His one-sided conversation that I heard was freezing my brain with the onslaught of different scenarios as I was unable to think coherently after witnessing the murder of my father and Joanne.

He started pacing back and forth in the hallway with hands behind his back and stared at me in contemplative silence. He started, after looking like he had reached a decision that satisfied him.

"You know, now that I think about it, It would be a shame for such a pretty little morsel to go to waste. Shame indeed! Tell me Anastasia Rose Steele. Do you want to live?" His beady eyes leered down at me. I shrank back in my skin further. What did he require from me? They already killed my father. I only wanted my daddy back...I-I wanted to live...B-but going to waste?

"Y-yes." My self-preservation kicked in and my body switched to survival mode. I croaked out with great difficulty despite my suicidal thoughts, I wanted to live. I'll live. Daddy would want me to live and continue with my life. I had to bide my time, enough time to escape. Yes, Daddy would like that.

"So it's a deal then. I pay my debt and maybe get some cash and you get to live. Come." He jerked his head and walked towards the main entrance and opened the door. Gesturing with his head at me to walk past him. I managed to lift my feet slowly and crept towards the door. Still wary of the scary guy, I did not turn my back on him lest he changed his mind about killing me.

"D-deal. What d-deal?" I finally asked him as I looked into his eyes for a second before receding my sight downwards as I neared him, hoping to collect the gall to look him into his eyes once more.

"Enough with this bullshit! No questions. Take it or leave it. It's your last chance. Do you wish to live or do you want to die?" He startled me with his loud bellow and fed-up tone.

"I w-want to l-live, p-please." Begging seemed like a really good idea right about now and a drowning man would even clutch at a straw for support. This scary guy happened to turn out to be my straw.

"Now that's more like it sweet pea. Follow me." He pushed me outside by man-handling my arm.

I had a moment of uncomfortable premonition of fear and uncertainty. An icy sickening sinking of my heart which plummeted me into the depths of doubts. I did not trust that man one bit and rightfully so.

He dragged me to the back of my house where they must have parked their vehicles. I spotted a rusty old black Chevy truck.

"You gotta excuse the rotten vehicle sweetheart. I'm new with these Greys, not been bestowed by their generosity yet!" He gave me a cheeky looking bipolar grin while I numbly just blinked up at him incredulously. Did he really thought after experiencing what I just witnessed I'd humor him?

He gave me a sheepish look at my blank stare and opened the truck door for me to sit in. I quietly slid into the seat and stared ahead feeling numb. I didn't know how I was able to function. I was sure my manual system was ruined and ran out of fuel and now I was running on auto and the leftover batteries.

I had conscience enough to warrant that I was passing through the denial phase. My experience and instincts warred within me. I knew that after this phase I'll collapse into a dreary and hysterical depression.

I didn't know when he started the engine and drove me away from my house, all I remembered was a small warm house that got smaller and smaller as the distance grew. I kept looking back even after my home disappeared from my line of sight. Goodbye. My heart whispered a final gut wrenching farewell.

Why did it had to end like that? I'd never see daddy again. My silent tears never stopped, now that everyone had abandoned me, seemed like they were my only yet eternal companions left, one that had promised not to ever leave me alone.

He drove the car for hours...maybe, and even offered me water which I blankly declined. My stomach churned at the thought of eating or drinking anything. I was busy having a rather vivid recall of everything that I witnessed happening. My head felt like it was going to burst into flames.

I tried to reassure myself with delusional prospects, everything would be back to normal, somehow daddy would come back and I'd eat Joanne's baked goods again. I should've fed Mimi, she gets grumpy if left unfed. Joanne baked goods will rot if kept out on the kitchen shelf for too long. Daddy gave me three of his shirts to sew their buttons back on, he had a bad habit of pulling on them and then ripping them off. I should've sewn those shirts before leaving. I finally had successfully persuaded Joanne to let me dye her snow-white hair to classic blond. She was so slight, short and delicate, I knew it would look good on her. She finally consented when I promised her she'd look like a doll and Antonio would love it!

I felt a smile cracking from my dry mouth as those memories invaded my brain like a beam of sunshine in the midst of black rain. But unlucky that I was, the day's events rushed back into my mind raiding it like an unwelcome oppressor as I tried to block them out by switching my focus to my chipped nails, they must have broken when I scratched the walls in order to control my screams.

When the voices inside my head grew too loud, amidst the silence, I suddenly asked the scary guy "Where are you taking me?" Not that I cared anymore. He looked at me askance and shrugged nonchalantly "Beggars cannot be choosers."

After that I did not utter a single syllable throughout the whole journey and drowned myself in my sorrows once more. I felt sleepy because of exhaustion and hunger. I didn't eat lunch in the haste to not get late to my belly dance lessons. I succumbed to sleep after struggling to keep my lids open. No gain trying to fight it, that was my last thought as lethargy claimed me.

I awoke jerkily when the Chevy gave a loud roar as it screeched to a halt effectively bringing me out of the sleep filled hazy fog. It took my brain a moment to register that what happened and was happening was not a dream and indeed a reality. Oh how I wished I was woken up by my dad beating down on my bedroom door, threatening to take Wanda if I didn't get to school on time. _Guess school was the thing of past now_, I thought gloomily.

"What is this place?" I asked scar-face as I looked at a red bricked warehouse type edifice with the words _The Scene_ written in bold on the top.

"Your prison, Your salvation. Whatever appeases your heart, sweet pea." He sing-songed in an upbeat tone as he gestured with his hands for me to get off the car and pulled out his keys from the ignition at the same time. One man's loss is another man's gain. At-least one of us is happy. I inwardly laughed at myself as I ridiculed my own patheticness for trying to find happiness in one of my family's assailant's gain.

I slowly opened my door as he appeared out of nowhere to help me out and maybe to make sure that I wouldn't escape. Don't worry, scary guy, even if I wanted to I wouldn't be able to run as I had no life force left inside me at the moment.

"Now listen here missy." He started, I gave him a sideways glance and then immediately looked down. "Your past ends here. You're no longer a Steele. Your name is Anastasia Rose. No Steele. If the word Steele ever got passed your lips, we're both dead. And now comes the real shit, you're not familiar with the name Grey or it's your funeral." I just looked at him, _was that suppose to concern me?_ "Understood!?" his tone was authoritative and I just nodded.

He clamped his large hand over my arm and ignored the front entrance pulling me towards the back of the building. He pushed through the threshold of a small door and, we ended up in what I assumed was a supply room. I kept my head down, never looking up and arms crossed across my torso as he still held onto my arm. No need to get my hopes up. I'm not afraid of these guys. I've survived the worst, I'm strong. I can probably take them on. I wanted to cry for myself at my mind's reassurances, even I knew it was a burlesque attempt of evading a blow.

I heard music blaring out of a closed leather door. It was a club of sorts if I was not wrong. Still I didn't dare to lift my eyelids, I kept them lowered. He pulled me into a lobby and out of my peripheral I saw skimpily dressed girls moving about, some talking, some laughing and giggling and others looked plain old mean and angry. I resisted the urge to cry again and closed my eyelids to avoid danger like a naive little robin...It was yet another habit of mine since I was a child, closing my eyes in the face of danger. It was a childish belief in my own impeccability but it used to work before, it might come to my aid again.

_Where was I?_ Most important question, _why was I in a place like this where I was seeing semi nude girls?_

The possibilities in my mind twisted and turned but I didn't want to go there yet.

He guided me towards another door. The camera besides the door - for security purpose I guess - flashed on our faces and the automatic door opened eerily. It lead to a stairwell which further led to a basement. My body stiffened like a board as I heard screams coming from somewhere down the basement. The stairway was very dark and gloomy looking. The dark stairway stopped in front of another doorway. A flash resounded, must be another security camera. The automatic doors opened letting us enter the basement facility.

Scary man pushed me into a room, it was not very well-kept, with rusted door handles and cracked wall paint. There was a man sitting at a desk in the middle of the room. He gave scary guy a surprised and acknowledging nod and then looked at me curiously.

"Connor. You've got some nerve showing up like that?" He stood up and walked towards Connor and me.

"I brought a peace-offering Jada." Connor said hurriedly and gave me a little nudge towards the other man as I firmly planted my feet on the uneven ground.

"Now where did you find this innocent little jailbait?" The other guy circled me as I firmly kept my eyes down.

"Where's Hyde? I don't answer to you Jada. It's Hyde I want to meet and make a deal with." Connor said impatiently, pulling me towards himself and away from Jada.

Jada leaned forward and gave my hair a little few sniffs and said. "Sweet." He backed away and turned towards Connor. "Hyde is not here. He just left, may get back in a while."

"I want to meet Hyde, when can I meet him?"

"I'll let you enter. Make no mistake though, he's very angry with you." Jada motioned us towards the other door in the room.

"I know!" Connor replied dryly as he clutched my arm again as Jada opened the door to grant Connor entry.

"Good luck!" I heard Jada intone as the automatic doors closed behind us.

"Remember what I said." Connor whispered and I resisted the urge to shiver with disgust as his breath tickled the nape of my neck.

There was a whole new world packed in that so-called basement. It was bustling like a mini third grade community where people were moving about doing their business, shady stuff.

We passed a long hall where I can see rows of rooms on the both side. Connor ignored the other hallways as he yanked me to move forward. After passing a corridor, he stopped and knocked on a huge oak door. Someone opened the door for us and I lurched forward as Connor pulled me inside with him. The men inside the room moved forward with an effusive air of welcome. I crept near Connor and clutched onto his bicep for dear life.

My body froze for a moment as I tried to accumulate what my eyes were seeing.

Girls. Every age and color. Different types. Some were huddled in a corner while a few were scattered around in a heap. I fearfully looked at Connor while he gave me a nonchalant shrug because there was nothing to be reassured about. No...

My mind was gathering a roughed up idea that I was supposed to end up like one of those girls. I looked around, appalled with speechless disgust and spotted a petite girl of round about my age or maybe older, crying continuously - she couldn't be more than 19 - curled up in a corner while the guards looked at her with disinterest and resignation.

The door opened with a boom and in came a bear of a man wearing dirty slacks and a bloody t-shirts and muttering. "Got into a fight, Hyde's still stuck there."

He stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted Connor. They stood eye to eye as I slowly moved back. He suddenly jerked his neck and gave me a long lingering stare. "Samuel." Connor exclaimed while gulping his saliva. "I came in peace." Connor lifted his hands in surrender.

"Well well well, look who's finally decided to grace us with his presence. Connor!" He turned around and sat on the wooden chair in the middle of the room. "So what brings you here Connor, I thought you'd never show yourself after doing what you did huh!? Taking our money and running away. You have some nerve." A guy brought him a water bottle which he gulped down and splashed on his face whilst giving Connor the death stare. He didn't hesitate to stare at me time after time.

"I-I know I'm sorry. I was in a bad shape that time." Connor gabbled as the new guy crossed his legs in-front of him.

"But that doesn't excuse for what you did, now does it?"

"I'm back. With payment. You buy girls. I brought you one. She's worth way more than the money I took. Just look at her. She can be one of the high-priced ones." Connor thrust me forward as I fell down at the new guy's feet. I braced myself for the drop, my arms shook as my hands took the full impact of my fall.

Samuel took my chin in his hand and scrutinized me as I tried to hide myself behind the curtain of my hair. "Innocence at its best. She's bringing out the animal in me." I tried to slap his hand away but he tightened his grip and trailed the fingers of his other hand on my face and caressed my neck. My throat suffocated with rage and embarrassment as I tried to get myself away from him.

"Don't, Samuel, Hyde won't be happy. You know he rarely gets to buy good stuff. You have enough whores to fuck, leave her alone. Lemme get my debt paid and then you can do whatever you wish to do with her." Samuel took hold of my neckline and Connor suddenly lurched forward to get me away from Samuel's clutches. I felt like a rag-doll as Connor wrenched me towards his side. Samuel pouted and resigned himself. Whoever that Hyde guy was I was thankful that the threat somehow stopped Samuel.

Samuel's expression now indicated that his mood was ruined. "Can anyone please shut the crying whore. It's making my fucking head burn." Samuel shouted while clutching his head. _I guess bipolarity was a common trait here..._

"Boss it's this one. She's been crying ever since she got here." One of the minion answered as he pointed towards the petite girl I noticed earlier.

"You! There, shut the fuck up." Samuel ordered her in an angry tone. She curled up into an even smaller ball and kept up with her crying.

"Stand up!" Samuel suddenly stood up as he haughtily walked towards her in long strides. Sensing her unresponsiveness at his command, he bent down and grabbed at her messy ponytail. She cried out with pain as he dragged her up.

"Why the fuck did Hyde even buy her? She doesn't even have any tits. And this is no joke here, this is business, we want the finest bitches out there not this frigid ass." He shook her ponytail brutally as she kept crying with hiccups.

"She's new. She'll get accustomed soon enough." One of the minions said hesitantly.

"Help me, someone!" She yelled out loud and gave a loud cry. Samuel raised his beefy hand and slapped her across her face effectively shutting her up. I whimpered and felt an unaccountable loathing for this Samuel guy.

"You fucking bastard, don't you dare slap me again." She cried out as she tried to free herself from his beefy fist.

"Stop with the yelling whore or I'll shut your mouth myself." He gave her another slap. Only by supreme effort I controlled myself from spouting profanities at him.

"No, leave me alone." She shouted and spat a big glob at his face. Oh no... Samuel's face reddened and his eyes grew murderous.

"Did you fucking spit at my face?" He whispered menacingly.

"Fuck you, you fucking bastard." Was she insane? She shouldn't anger him like that. I wanted to run and save her from that evil man and also protect all of those scared girls. Even though most of them seemed to be older than me I wanted to protect them like a mother hen. I was my father's daughter after-all and he gave his life for an honorable cause.

"Fuck huh?" He grabbed her jaw with his one hand and shook her hair with the other as he gave her a devious look. "You're a little piece of shit, aren't you?"

She didn't answer but spat at his face again. He grabbed onto her hair and with his other hand tore the neckline of her dirty lilac dress. Her childlike petite body displayed itself in front of all those men. I averted my eyes. The less people saw her, the less shame falls on her. She crossed one of her arms across her chest and slapped him with a raging fury.

She yelled aloud as he picked her up like a rag doll and threw her up against a wall. I winced as she cried out. I heard a crunch of a bone splintering. My body erupted in goose bumps as a new type of fear housed itself in my mind. My protective streak started rearing it's head.

He marched forward and backhanded her again. "Now I want all of you whores and this new little bitch there to watch what happens when you back mouth at us." He opened her legs and ripped away her panties. She flailed her arms and cried out for help. He thrusted into her dry cavern in one long stroke roughly. I cried out and lurched forward to help her but Connor grabbed both of my arms in his steel like grip. I wailed and thrashed to reach out to her but to no avail.

She screamed bloody murder when he started thrusting violently. I looked around whilst screaming and crying, maybe someone would help her but the men stood enjoying the view and some of the girls - just like me - screamed or cried while others just ignored.

I again moved forward unconsciously with a violent force to stop that cursed monster. A forceful hand on my shoulder and an arm encircling my waist pulled me back. "Don't go near him!" Connor whispered in my ear without any empathy. "You're too precious to destroy over one insignificant ugly girl." I would've turned around and slapped him on his face or at-least spit at him if I wasn't already held captive by that poor girl's helplessness. There wasn't enough time there for me and my scorn, I just wanted to help her...

I shook with violent tremors as sobs wracked my already tired body. I couldn't get away, Connor wouldn't release me. He was holding onto me tight. "She'd probably end up being a low-level whore anyway, you my dear, on the other hand, are exquisite and special."

"No." I whispered resignedly as I slumped back and shook my head in denial. How could I possibly help her? I myself was a victim here. I had shamed my father, he was an honorable man. I couldn't help her, I couldn't save her. I was a good for nothing. I couldn't save anybody.

I saw his dirty manhood smeared with her blood as he violently moved back and forth in her. "He won't let anyone get away with anything right now, I have known this sick mother fucker since ages! Don't go near him." I wanted to kill Connor with my bare hands for bringing me here. Two dead bodies and one more trauma.

Samuel finished and pulled out of her. He looked back at all of us with triumph and then back at her. "Well that was not so bad after all." He said after grabbing her jaw in his hands roughly and then pushing it back forcibly.

Her shoulder already looked dislocated because of her earlier fall. "Ummmpphhhh." She voiced at the impact and then slumped back like an unsupported heap.

He gave a joyous sickening laugh. "I got lucky tonight. I got laid!" The guards laughed with him as I averted my reddened eyes from his now flaccid member. I held no interest in viewing him or his manhood whatsoever. My tears never stopped.

He tucked himself back in his pants and stood up. He slowly prowled towards me. I held my breath in fear. "Are there any more pretty virgins over here?" He licked his lips lasciviously as his eyes fell on me. I moved back. "You're a virgin, right?"

I wanted to shake my head but ended up nodding it because of the terror, not really ready to face his wrath directed towards myself. "Look what you did now, initially I was interested in fucking you, but Connor was no fun." He pouted and gave Connor a petulant look. Connor just looked at him unyieldingly and Samuel pursed his lips.

"Back off Samuel. This one's for Hyde. She'll earn him a lot of money." Connor said in a bored sounding voice.

My eyes drifted towards Samuel's back and I saw the petite girl stand-up awkwardly and jump at him from behind. Samuel moved reflexively as she grabbed his neck and tried to unsuccessfully choke him. "I'll kill each one of you!" She screamed hysterically.

He turned around swiftly and threw her off of him. She ended up falling on a minion, who she somehow managed to kick in the balls. She left one guy on the ground holding his balls and ran towards Samuel slightly limping and started throwing ineffective punches on his face. We all held our breath as Samuel picked up a broken bottle of wine which was thrown in the corner of the room.

"No, please!" A shriek left me as I shouted but it was too late. He embedded the sharp end of the broken wine bottle in her stomach. Blood smeared her torso as she started to hyperventilate. He legs grew weak and she collapsed on the floor while emptily looking me in the eyes.

I cried out and my body filled up with adrenaline as I saw her closed lids. I tried to run towards her but Connor again held me against my will. "Boss, did you kill her off?" A minion whispered softly in the quite room.

"What? She attacked me and I already had a painful headache." Samuel replied defensively like there wasn't an unconscious naked girl lying in the middle of the room.

"She is still alive." One of the minions walked towards her and crouched down holding her wrist and checking for her pulse to confirm if it was still there.

"Don't fret. Take her elsewhere and stitch her up. I'm sure she'll pass." Samuel shrugged and ordered the minion. He took off his bloody T-shirt and downed a jacket on his hairy torso.

"Are you leaving?" Connor asked as Samuel started towards the door.

"Yes. You know how lethargic I feel after I fuck! I think I need a nap!" He replied casually while messing with his phone. He turned around as he reached the threshold and smirked at Connor, he then threw a wink my way before leaving the room as I shivered in disgust. "Bye little bird, we'll meet again, until next time!" I heard his booming laugh as the door snapped shut.

* * *

**Kindly no flames. Constructive and respectful criticism is always welcome. Vanessa Grey I know I promised you a chapter way earlier than I'm updating but I fell prey to migraine. :( So sorry!**

**I write this story with different names of the characters, for example (CG and Ana are Roderick and Dolores) that way I don't get caught up with original FSOG characters while writing it and It's also for my own sanity so my muse can run wild. If you cannot gulp it down with CG and Ana's name, then later in the story, I'd be happy to change the names of the protagonists. Just let me know. :)**

**Leave me some feedback. They are the drivers behind my muse. :)**  
** Bye Everyone!**


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